Updates: Media (lyrics) has a new layout. I could never figure out how to lay it out, but it's easier to navigate now. I'm still working on a better duplicate Mamblog mod. I'm trying to make submittions easier but the poetry form died for some reason. Quizzes are also on their way from the old site. Joomla content isn't very code friendly so I'm having to rewrite old code. You can still click on News > AH v21 > Screen if you wish to use the quizzes.
only under very special circumstances, or duress, will i eat in front of people. because that's like saying "i'm not as strong as i say i am, I DO have to eat once in a while." and i feel like i'm stuffing my face even though i'm eating one fat-free saltine cracker so everyone else must think that as well. sitting in my car today before class there were two girls talking at their car on the other side of the row, and since i could see them in my rear-view mirror and my right side mirror, i'm thinking they can see me and they're watching me stuff my face with one lonely fat-free saltine cracker. furthermore, they see me stuff my face and they point and mock me, "ewe, look at what she's eating, it's so gross and fattening," and then on to body image which only leads to other torturous topics, so I watch these girls, I mean I really WATCH them and when I'm sure they can't see me by how they're standing, not even out of the corner of their eye, then FINALLY i take that fated bite. and although it took me ten minutes to eat that one and by this time i'm no longer hungry, I believe what they say, that it gets easier. and to think, this is a step up from my earlier attempts at public food consumption..
The world spins without me, why does it do this? The world spins while I...I lie in bed waiting for it to stop. What is this fascination with alcohol? It seems to inflict this feeling of peace, love, and harmony upon my already slightly dysfunctional family members. Members who, on any ordinary day, would hardly find a meal together peaceful, loving, or at all harmonious. They continue on while I draw neat little pictures in my head of forcing fingers down my throat in a frantic attempt to regain what was mine before this nightmare began.
(8:44am)
Horribly vivid nightmares of rape resurface. I can still feel him. I no longer have to shut my eyes to see his face, that nightmare plays on like watching streaming video through transparent eyelids. Though it's getting difficult to distinguish this endless looping video from the world outside the pictures. What if it's all just an elaborate scheme to keep me down and bleeding? What if all it takes to make it go away is to say, "I'm too weak to do this alone, I need help?" What if that's all it takes?? What if being stubborn no longer has any advantages? Until I figure this out, the horror show I'm watching remains. Until I can say my life is as it should be, I'm trapped by my fears, my regrets, and my consequences. Then and only then will I be able to say, "this happened to me, but I survived."
(9:13am)
I had much too much time to sit and think today. One shouldn't be allowed to put that much thought into any one topic. It isn't safe.
(9:36am)
Panic has set in. In just one hour I leave for dinner at a restaurant with family, something I haven't done since this all started. To sit down with food all around, order something, and pretend to eat it. All eyes will be on me tonight, am I capable of feigning normalcy? Can I look at a menu without panicking? The biggest test of all, can I eat the food, with a look of contentment rather than a look of guilt? Somehow, sometime long ago, everyone came to believe they could make fun of me all night long and I'd walk away without a scratch. I used to be able to. Unfortunately the jokes started last night and with that head start, I know I can't do it anymore. Food jokes and lectures from my grandmother, something I don't need today. The ongoing joke they seem to have, which I don't quite understand, is that for some reason I want dessert. How can I tell them it's no longer funny? I'm sick of lying there wounded and bleeding while jokes just roll off their tongue with such ease. They don't even realize what they're doing. "Oh she's tough, she can take it" is what my father told my grandfather over the phone last night. Open your eyes and see! I'm not the little girl anymore who can shrug it off. When you cut me I bleed. But this time, the blood is real.
I had this uncontrollable desire to go fishing through the rubble in my garage for my long-lost, probably rusty, no longer sharp razor blades i've intentionally misplaced. Even though the teeth on my serrated knife do a bit more lasting harm, I've grown sick of it. It seems a little less courageous and uh...serious to say the least. And although I haven't done any damage whatsoever besides stuff in my head since one month ago today, and breaking that run wouldn't be that huge of a fall, I still didn't think it was necessary. Even though I really wanted to.
also, i read this today on a blogger i frequent:
"i find myself lurking on chat groups and websites where hordes of high school girls go to find out how to get this disease of mine, where they trade tips on how to achieve the misery i inflict on myself everyday. i'm horrified yet fascinated by the idea that anyone who could choose would want this, that anyone could think this lonely, cold semi-existence is one to work towards.
"i find myself wanting to play games with these young minds. part of me wants to save them, of course...but then there's the other part of me. the deep dark mean part, that wants to prove to these silly, stupid girls trying to avoid pizza night with the family that it really is true what they say- be careful what you wish for.
"but mostly i want to tell them that it doesn't matter how small you are, or how thin you get. it doesn't matter if you weigh in- as i do now- at 87 pounds. cause if you hate what's on the inside, getting thinner only gets you closer to the core, closer to the part you hate.
"feeling like the rubbery yellow chewy stalks at the inside of a celery bunch."
The only good time in my life that i remember, now just reminds me of what a tragedy life is. How terribly short, how precious. I'm doubting religion more than I ever have though. They didn't even invite anyone to the funeral, her closest friends. My elementary school is holding a service, planting a tree. I can't even figure out when. I'd cry if I thought no one would find out. Unfortunately everyone knows when I've been crying so I don't anymore. I'll cry on the inside instead.
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